Haunted
by VinnyRoxyFrankie
Summary: UPDATED! Now two poems, a song AND a one shot about Christine and Phantom singing together for the first time! A collection of poems and songs that I am currently writing after studying Phantom of the Opera at school.
1. Haunted

**Haunted**

_I'm studying Phantom of the Opera as a film study at school at the moment - it is the most amazing movie. This poem suddenly came to me, based on how Christine and the Phantom feel._

* * *

I look behind

A noise I hear

Nothing to be seen

Yet I know you're here

Snow brushes

Milk white cheeks

Burning with fire

Uncertainty, wonder

Father, Angel, Phantom

Impostor, music master

Trapped inside himself

He runs and turns much faster

A shape, a spirit

That won't leave me behind

Steeped in darkest night

The Angel tries to find

Cannot let go

Can't leave behind

The spirit girl

Inside his mind

Trapped in dingy dungeons

Fire brightly burns

Devouring, delivering

The Phantom's hourglass turns

_

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You likee or not? Please review and tell me what you think._

_- Amy_


	2. Comfort

_Well, another poem inspired by Phantom of the Opera – what can I say, I'm obsessed! This time it's about how Christine felt when her father died:_

* * *

Comfort

I stand alone in darkness

Living flame before me

My father's whispered promises

Caresses

Ringing in my ears

Little Lotte no longer

I have seen death

Life snuffed out

Like this candle

In the night

My heart

Cold, shrivelling

Needing

Light and warmth

Angel

Sing to me

Your music knows no bounds

Wind around my tortured mind

Softening, cushioning

My pain

_

* * *

Very fun to write. PLEASE review! And thanks to those who reviewed Haunted._


	3. Angel

**Hey guys**

**This is a song I wrote for school - how cool is this: since we are studying Phantom for a film study, for a creatice writing assessment we get to write a deleted scene of the movie! Not as script, just as prose so I wrote this song to go in it, since the movie IS a musical! Please tell me what you think! BTW, I can't get it to go in seperate verses, so I will make them in bold so you can tell the difference.**

**

* * *

**

Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler – Angel

_Phantom of the Opera_

**Christine: Father, I remember**

**Clear as day, in my mind**

**You promised me an angel**

**If you had to leave me behind**

I miss you  
I need you

I'm lonely here tonight

Please, Father

Send me your angel

To make with me music of light

**A spot in eternal darkness**

**My candle burns in the night**

**My song is only a whisper**

**My music of the light ...**

Phantom: Child of music and sadness

Calls for an angel to guide

I will teach her, heal her

Within the walls where I hide

**Though I'm here**

**Midst the crowds of the theatre**

**I'm lonely too, tonight**

**Behind my mask**

**I peek, I hide**

**Watching my Angel of Light**

Both: Heal me

Save me

Sing to me, Angel of Light

Echoes in the darkness

Take me from the night!

**Christine: Father, you sent me an angel**

**In him, you live once more**

**Your violin music still rings in my ears**

**Though no light shines through your door**

Both: The presence of an angel

Will banish the black of night

Take me from the darkness

And lead me into the light

* * *

So - is it good or not? PLEASE review!

Love Amy


	4. Memory

**Memory**

_Hey guys! Yes, 'tis moi, Amy. I wrote this scene for school - just wondering if you guys will like it. I don't know what mark I'm going to get yet. It's about Christine and the first time she hears the Phantom singing to her.

* * *

_

Raising her trembling hand, Christine touched a lit taper to the candle before her. It sputtered and slowly burst into life – it's golden flame the only light in the oppressive darkness pressing down upon her like a heavy cloak. She wrapped her frozen arms around her thin body, as though she could capture some of the warmth and light the candle brought and make it her own.

_My heart is as cold as the stone beneath me, _she thought numbly. A lone tear ran down her white cheek, as icy as forgotten porcelain. _I can't feel. I just see._

The music of violins rang in her head as the young girl knelt on the chapel floor, the cold, dead stone biting into her legs. The notes were sweet and clear – yet, for Christine, they were tinged with sadness. Tinged with the memory of a time long gone.

She felt her heart constrict as the memory took her by surprise. It felt as if someone had cut her – deep and razor sharp – and then reopened the wound. Remembering brought pain. But she felt something else too – a yearning, a longing, to float back to a time when things had been different. When loneliness hadn't clawed at her heart every minute of the day. When she'd felt the presence of love all around her, precarious and fragile as her life had been.

_

* * *

Gustave Daae lay in a four poster bed, in a room that had long forgotten what sunlight was. It was dark and musty – filled with the rank odour of sickness and despair. The man's small, twisted frame was daunted by the size of the huge mattress. He was not an old man, but his face would have fooled you – aged prematurely, and tired. Tired of living. Tired of waiting. Sunken eyes peered out from beneath a thin, lined forehead._

"_Not long now," he murmured, an expression of long awaited bliss crossing his face._

_Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and a child burst into the room. Her dark hair whirled in an unruly cloud around her tiny face, her eyes were bright and wondering, yet somehow older than her years. Wiser. Sadder. Something lurked behind those big eyes – something she tried to forget. Something that was threatening to overcome her. _

_At the sight of the man, the child slowed her pace, and walked sedately over to the bed. Her eyes lost some of their sparkle and lustre as they surveyed the tired adult. _

"_Papa .." she whispered, her voice fragile as glass._

"_Christine. My darling .." Gustave's voice was as weak and crackly as old, yellowed parchment. He patted the bed, and Christine climbed carefully up to sit beside him. She picked up her father's hand and stroked it softly, as though it was something precious that could break at any moment._

"_Christine ... you must listen carefully .." His voice was laborious, speech filled with loud gasps as his lungs desperately sucked in more air. The child looked up, attentive, all her mind focused on her father._

"_I'm going to die soon, Christine."_

_Her eyes changed apruptly. Fear filled them, a dark and suffocating cloud rising up, swallowing all the light. "No, Papa, don't say that!"_

"_You must not be scared, child. I will be with you always."_

"_How, Papa? How can we be together if you are in Heaven?"_

_Her father's voice grew softer, he looked around furtively, as if relaying a great secret, and Christine leaned closer to hear these important words._

"_When I am no longer here, Christine, I will send to you an Angel of music from Heaven. An angel who will sing to you when you are lonely or sad."_

_Light shone from the girl's face as she imagined. "A real angel?"_

_He took a long, shuddering breath. "Yes ... an Angel of Music ..." A lingering smile crossed Gustave's face as he looked at his daughter. All the love and pain and regret in the world haunted his eyes. _

_Then his body jumped and began convulsing, bloodshot eyes rolling into the back of his head. Christine threw herself at her father._

"_PAPA! What's wrong? Stop it, please .." Her loud sobs filled the room._

_But her father was beyond hearing. His body still shook, sweat glistened on his brow and he clutched her hand so tightly that she couldn't wrench it free. Christine's screams grew louder, filling the dark room until they bounced back, echoing and magnifying their volume in her mind._

_Then – her father was still. His eyes rolled back down and were wide open, staring out at Christine eerily – staring but not seeing. His hand went limp, and lolled uselessly in hers. She stopped screaming, numb with shock and the anguish that she had known would inevitably come._

_Her papa's pain was over, finished. He was gone – to a better place where he wouldn't hurt. And she was here alone. _

* * *

Tears streamed down Christine's cheeks as she relived the moment when Papa had left her forever. _How could he? How could he? _The agony of being alone rose up in her like a violent storm until she was sure she would suffocate. _Papa wouldn't want me to cry, _she told herself. But somehow, she just couldn't stop.

Her sobs gradually quieted, until all that could be heard were quiet gasps as Christine calmed herself. Then her clear, sweet voice rose into the air – communicating with her father in the only way she knew how.

_Father, I remember_

_Clear as day, in my mind_

_You promised me an angel_

_If you had to leave me behind _

The Phantom was stealing softly through the roof above the chapel. A sudden noise made him jump, then his taut body relaxed as he heard a child's voice. Creeping closer, lurking in the shadows above her, he set eyes on the girl for the first time – and he heard a voice unlike any that he'd heard before, though he hid in the midst of supposedly some of the best singers in Europe.

The pain washed through Christine again and threatened to overcome her. Her voice broke with emotion, but she carried on singing bravely, trying to pour all her anguish out into her song, trying to let it all go.

_I miss you  
I need you_

_I'm lonely here tonight_

_Please, Father_

_Send me your angel_

_To make with me music of light_

Feelings washed through the Phantom too. Loneliness. He knew how that felt. He'd never had anyone as a friend – no one to comfort him, no one who really knew him. Only his music to take away all the hurt and rejection he suffered.

Christine's voice grew hoarse with desperation. _Papa, answer me, please! _Her mind screamed. _Save me!_

_A spot in eternal darkness_

_My candle burns in the night_

_My song is only a whisper_

_My music of the light ... _

And the Phantom knew what to he had to do. Something had called him here tonight, he was sure it was fate that he had come to hear this girl singing. A girl so like him. A girl – an Angel - who needed him just as much as he perhaps needed her.

A strong voice rang out over her's and Christine jumped in fright, a candlestick clattering to the ground, tears still glinting on her cheeks like diamonds floating on water.

_Child of music and sadness_

_Calls for an angel to guide_

_I will teach her, heal her_

_Within the walls where I hide_

_Angel! He's here, he's come to save me. _Her sorrow was pushed to the back of her mind as Christine let herself get lost in the sheer beauty of her Angel's voice, let the music wind around her, soothing her fears. She felt like she was outside her body, floating like a wraith. The candle was just a star burning brightly, far away in the distance – or maybe in the past.

_Though I'm here_

_Midst the crowds of the theatre_

_I'm lonely too, tonight _

_Behind my mask_

_I peek, I hide_

_Watching my Angel of Light _

As the Angel's last note died away, Christine heard her voice rising, singing once again intuitively, calling her thanks to the man who had answered her plea.

_Father, you sent me an angel_

_In him, you live once more_

_Your violin music still rings in my ears_

_Though no light shines through your door_

He was listening. Christine knew he was still there, and she felt joy filling her as her Angel joined in with her. Their voices rose, soared and crested, together, joined as one, as though they had known eachother an eternal lifetime.

_Heal me_

_Save me_

_Sing to me, Angel of Light_

_Echoes in the darkness_

_Take me from the night!_

A shadow flitted through the rafters, leaping lightly and making no sound – other than a quiet swish – perhaps a cloak, or wings? He was gone. As sure as she'd known he was her Angel of Music, Christine knew that he had come and rescued her for one night – then left, his job done. But from now on she would not be alone.

She knelt at the altar, thanking her father, thanking God, thanking her Angel. Her eyes glittered and burned with a renewed sense of purpose. The candle, burned down to a pool of wax, flickered – once, twice, then went out, plunging her once more into darkness.

* * *

_Yes, I did write the song in it! In fact I think I put it up and it's the chapter before this ... oh well!_

_Now PLEASE read and review ... for my sake!_

_Love Amy_


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